


The Pleasure Slaves

by Fiona James (Bluewolf458)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Fiona%20James
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a universe very similar to the Mirror one, the crew of the Enterprise is forced into slavery on Vulcan</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pleasure Slaves

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story based on the picture described in Hazan. It is set in a universe similar in many ways to the Mirror one.  
> Writer's note; although no mention is made of preparation or the use of lubricants, please assume that the characters do prepare each other adequately, and do use lube.

 

The Pleasure Slaves

By Fiona James

(Aka Sara S. Reynolds)

Kirk opened his eyes cautiously, warned by the throbbing ache behind them that anything might intensify the headache that hovered on the edge of consciousness. He could see nothing. Wherever he was, he was in pitch darkness. It was cold, the ground on which he lay was hard and uncomfortable, and he felt sick.

Resolutely, he choked down nausea. He sat up, gritting his teeth against the sudden dizziness and the merciless stab of pain, yet oddly grateful for that nausea and pain. It gave him something to take his mind from the silent, dark prison in which he found himself.

He struggled to remember what had happened.

An uncharted planet... life form readings, but sparse; a high enough level of technology indicating that beaming down, investigating, was possible. There would be no breach of the Prime Directive.

Then, unexpectedly, a distress signal, emanating from a lonely spot on the planet's surface. His decision to accompany the landing party assigned to investigate. Landing, to find nothing there. Scattering... and then the sudden attack that overwhelmed them. Something hit the back of his head even as he groped for his communicator...

Where were his men?

Crawling, he felt about him, but the room in which he was incarcerated seemed to be empty apart from himself. It was small - about seven feet square, he estimated - and high enough that he could not reach the ceiling.

He sat again, leaning back against the wall, thinking.

He had no guarantee that his men would search for him. He did not doubt the loyalty of most of them, true; but there were some ambitious men among his senior officers, and one ambitious woman. He had the uncomfortable conviction that Sulu and Uhura would form a probably temporary alliance, and cursed himself viciously for his stupidity in not getting rid of at least one of them long ago. But they were both efficient officers, good at their jobs; and he had believed that he could hold them in their place. Yes - he could hold them in their places... while he was there, while there was the certainty he would be going back. His reputation for harsh justice was well earned. But they would make no move to rescue him. Even McCoy, his closest friend, would not attempt to defy them. The medical department was the only place on a starship for a coward.

The door crashed open, letting light flood in from the outside corridor. Two figures entered, striding over to him, shadows against the bright doorway.

"Up, slave!"

Slave? Well, he had not got where he was by acting precipitously. He would go along with this until he could obtain some information. Unsteadily, still dizzy, he scrambled to his feet.

They had to support him. Not all of his considerable willpower could hold him upright. He was marched along a corridor, past many doors, up stairs, into an ornately furnished room. There was a thick carpet on the floor, patterned in gaudy colours, tapestries hanging from the walks, matching it perfectly, an elaborately carved table and chairs cushioned in the same gaudy pattern. Kirk was dragged over to the table and pushed to his knees. He let his head droop tiredly - just trying to walk here had exhausted him

The sound of the door opening alerted him and he raised his head. A man had entered, and was walking to the chair in front of the captive. Kirk stared, forgetting to breathe for a moment. He had never been superstitious, but...

Slanting eyebrows, pointed ears... His glance dropped to the floor, but the man's feet were hidden by his robes. Kirk shivered. Demons! No known race in the Galaxy looked like this...

The creature spoke. One of Kirk's captors answered, then the newcomer looked down at the Human. He spoke again, obviously asking a question. Kirk could understand nothing of the language, and shook his head. The gesture earned him a blow from one of the guards. The being spoke again, and Kirk decided that he must say something.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you."

The guard raised his hand again, but the questioner intervened. He spoke, and the guard bowed and left the room; the remaining guard placed a hand on the Human's shoulder lightly, as if daring him to make a move. Kirk remained still; his head was still reeling from the blow he had received.

After a minute the first guard returned, accompanied by another of these strange pointed-eared beings. This one - like the guard, Kirk was almost relieved to note - wore a knee-length tunic. The legs were bare except for thronged sandals, and he saw that they had ordinary feet, not - as he had half feared - hooves.

The questioner turned to Kirk again, and spoke. Wearily Kirk answered, "I don't understand."

The newcomer now spoke. "Lord Sarek asks your name."

"James T. Kirk, Captain of the ESS Enterprise."

There was a brief exchange between the demons, then the interpreter turned back to Kirk. "And what was the Captain of the ESS Enterprise doing on a routine landing party?"

"Being stupid, it seems," Kirk said honestly. "I wanted some fresh air, nothing more."

"And what was the ESS Enterprise doing in this sector of space?"

"We were star charting," Kirk replied. "This area is unexplored space."

"And does the Empire plan to move into this region of space?"

"I don't know," Kirk replied, still honestly. "I just obey orders - I'm not privy to the Emperor's plans."

The interpreter turned back to Lord Sarek and held a brief discussion, then the interpreter - Kirk never did learn his name - turned back to him.

"Is your family rich?"

Kirk stared blankly. "Rich? Family? I have no family. My parents died several years ago. Because I was in space at the time their property was seized by the Emperor as an unclaimed inheritance. Terrans have few rights in the Klingon Empire."

The interpreter turned again to Lord Sarek. A few more words, then, "So you cannot be ransomed?"

"Well, no, but my ship... "

"Your ship has fallen into our hands, James T. Kirk. The crew are our prisoners."

Kirk stared at him, disbelieving. The interpreter went on, "Those who cannot be ransomed - we have our methods of contacting your people - will pay for their lives by service."

"Service?"

"You are now a slave of Lord Sarek. Disobedience will be immediately - and harshly - punished."

Kirk glanced at the silent, long-robed figure, and believed him. Galling though it would be, obedience would seem to be his best course - for the moment. But one day, he promised himself, he would escape! And when he did, he would exact vengeance for every day of servitude.

Lord Sarek spoke again, and the interpreter nodded. He went out.

While he waited Sarek poured himself a glass of a clear blue liquid from a decanter that stood on the table. He moved over to the window, and stood staring out as he sipped the drink.

After some minutes the interpreter returned, accompanied by an older man - no, Kirk reminded himself. Not 'man'. Whatever this race of aliens was, these beings were not 'men'.

Sarek swung round from the window and moved forward, speaking. The older devil bowed, answered, then with the interpreter moved towards Kirk. The interpreter spoke.

"This is Doctor Stephron, James T. Kirk. He will examine your mind to determine which work will be most suited to your capabilities."

"My mind?" Kirk whispered, shocked.

The interpreter almost smiled. "Yes, James T. Kirk. We are telepaths. If we wish, we can know every thought in your head."

Resolutely Kirk put the thought of escape out of his conscious mind, grateful for the warning, although he did not abandon the idea. One day, he was sure, his opportunity would come... and when it did, he would take it.

Stephron reached out and touched Kirk's temple. The Human felt a cold finger probing into his mind, and shivered in revulsion. If this was telepathy, he was glad Humans had no such dubious gift.

The finger probed deeper, deeper, sending off icy tentacles to investigate the hidden corners. Involuntarily he tried to jerk backwards, only to discover that one of the guards was holding him. He had been so intent on the doctor he had completely failed to feel the warm touch of hands on his back.

Then the doctor lifted his hand from Kirk's head. The cold pathways through his brain slowly warmed again as Stephron turned and spoke to Sarek. This time Kirk discovered he could understand the alien language.

"He is a very sensual man, Lord Sarek. I estimate that he will serve excellently well as a sexual entertainer."

Sexual entertainer? Kirk thought, stunned. Sure, he'd always liked sex, but he'd never been an exhibitionist. Or did Stephron mean... did Stephron mean that Sarek should sell him to a brothel or something like that? No - Sarek was still speaking.

"We have lacked a skilled sexual entertainer to enliven our feasts since the Andorian died. He must be trained, of course... "

"Lord Spock proved excellent at training the Andorian," Stephron suggested.

Sarek nodded. "Yes. I remember. Guards - take the slave to my son. He is to be trained for our entertainment."

"Yes, Lord."

Kirk felt himself dragged to his feet. Numbly, he allowed himself to be taken from the room.

***

The younger demon looked up as Kirk was forced into his room, an eyebrow lifting as he took note of the Human's physique. He walked round the Human, examining him closely. A finger traced the curve of his ear as Spock listened to the instructions passed on by the guard.

"I see. Inform Lord Sarek that this will be done. Bring the slave here." He led the way over to where a low post protruded from the floor. There was a chain fastened to it, a chain which was lying neatly coiled, put away, waiting for use. Kirk was pushed to his knees beside it as Spock picked up a knife from a nearby table. "You may go."

The guards departed, leaving their prisoner alone with Spock. The younger demon resumed his study of the Human, nodded appreciatively.

"Strip." The knife was being waved suggestively, and Kirk knew that if he did not obey the clothes would be cut from him, probably without consideration for any cuts he might suffer in the process. Reluctantly, he removed his clothes.

The alien examined him again for a brief moment, then bent and quickly fastened the end of the chain to his ankle and pushed him back onto his knees - he had risen unsteadily to remove trousers and boots.

"You are unwell?" the young alien demanded.

"Dizzy," he admitted.

"And events have probably moved rather quickly. I know my father. He is not one to delay over any decision." He looked at Kirk thoughtfully. "Your name?"

"James T. Kirk."

"And how did you get here, James T. Kirk?"

Kirk sighed resignedly and told him. Spock nodded. "Other Offworlders have been trapped the same way," he said. "It is an easy way of obtaining new slaves, and cheaper than dealing with the Orions."

"He did mention ransom... " Kirk said tentatively.

Spock half smiled. "It has been known," he admitted, "but only for the very, very rich. We always deal through the Orions in our contact with Offworld, and they too demand a share of any ransom money. It has also been known for them to pretend to have the ransom, give us our share, then keep the slave for resale elsewhere. We do not wholly trust the Orions, James T. Kirk. You are better off here, believe me."

"Where is 'here'?" Kirk demanded.

"You are in no position to demand any information, James T. Kirk, but I will tell you. This is the planet Vulcan - is that of any value to you?"

Mutely, Kirk shook his head briefly - the movement hurt, threatening to intensify the incipient headache.

"Well, I too have my orders. It is in my own interests to train you well, James T. Kirk - your name is very long."

"It's my full name. James is my given name, Kirk the family name."

"And the 'T'?"

Kirk flushed slightly. "Humans usually have a middle name - a second given name, that is usually only referred to by the initial letter."

"And for what is it the initial letter?"

Kirk's flush deepened. "Theophilus."

"You are ashamed of your name?"

"Well, it's not exactly a man's name, is it?"

"I would not know, since I am not a man," Spock answered indifferently. He began to remove his own clothes. Stripped, he lifted a leather harness and slipped it on. Straps curled round his ribs and over his shoulders, held together by a strip of leather down the front. Kirk looked at it curiously; it seemed to serve no useful purpose.

Spock caught his glance. "Only slaves and their trainers ever strip in public," he said. "Since I am a free man, I wear this to indicate my status. I am stripped, but not naked."

Kirk wondered if he would ever understand the mores of this society. This man was the son of his... his owner. Yet he was being expected - apparently - to undergo the humiliation of appearing nearly naked in public. The harness hid nothing.

"Attend," Spock said. "My father, in common with many of his intimates, enjoys watching a sexual performance in the evening after he has eaten, as part of the entertainment. He likes a certain amount of variety in that performance, naturally. Since Thelev died he has had to make do with women, and he is becoming impatient with that. He will expect you to be able to entertain him within two or three days... and for my own sake, I will see to it that you are ready."

"For your own sake? I thought you were his son." The words were out before Kirk could stop them.

The Vulcan smiled grimly. "That gives me no privileges," he said. "I have heard that Offworld it is otherwise, but on Vulcan children have no rights save any their fathers choose to give them. The heir, in particular, is kept subjugated. It teaches us self-discipline. How can we control a Household, an Estate, if we cannot rule ourselves?"

"And you just accept that?" Kirk gasped.

"You forget your place, slave!" The deep voice was suddenly very cold, holding a subtle menace that made Kirk shiver. "Now, since you are obviously not yet recovered from the attack that captured you, we will begin with an easy exercise. I have heard that Humans do not necessarily require a partner, but can use their own hands to bring themselves to orgasm. Is that correct?"

Kirk glared at him, and he sighed.

"Listen well, for I shall not tell you this again. Life can be as easy or as difficult for you as you choose to make it. You have already experienced Stephron's mind touch; I doubt you found it pleasant. And that was merely to learn something from you. I also can use it to learn what I will of you. In addition, the mind touch can be used to enforce your obedience, and if you attempt resistance you will feel pain. Resign yourself. Make life pleasant for yourself."

"Pleasant!" Kirk snarled. "Exposing myself to... entertain... a sadistic, perverted... "

"That is enough!" The voice cracked like a whip. "Be grateful that you are here, that Sarek's men reached you first." The voice was quieter. "Our neighbor to the west is sadistic, and his after-dinner entertainment often involves the torture of his slaves... and if any actually die under the torture, the torturer joins them. He is... highly motivated... to keep his victims alive. And for the things you have already said - or not said - your tongue would already have been slit." He toyed with the knife. "I ask you again; is it true that Humans can satisfy themselves with their hands?"

"Yes," Kirk muttered sullenly.

"Excellent. A simple but original act which my father assuredly will not have seen before while we work on more involved routines... and probably highly erotic," he added thoughtfully. "Now... how best to arouse you? Yes... " He smiled. "How often have you been with another male?"

Outrage glared from the prisoner's face. "Never!"

The smile broadened. "Soon you will be begging for my touch," Spock said confidently. He reached out with his free hand and lifted Kirk's chin, forcing the Human to face him, then knelt gracefully on one knee and leaned forward to press his lips against Kirk's. The Human tried to pull away, and was prevented by the sharp prick of the knife now being held between his shoulder blades. Spock lifted his head for a moment.

"Do not attempt to bite," he warned, then covered Kirk's mouth again. His tongue forced its way between the Human's lips and caressed the inner surface. The hand holding the knife remained behind the Human's back; the other ran lightly down his arm, up it again, then slid onto his chest, stroking lightly. Fingers toyed with a nipple.

Kirk struggled to remain detached against the seductive touch, helped by the knowledge that these caresses were being given by another male. The mouth lifted again and the Vulcan bent to tongue his other nipple. He was definitely highly skilled, Kirk conceded as he fought to control the involuntary throbbing in his groin, knowing that he was losing the battle.

Spock raised his head again and studied the Human's response. "Good. Good. See, you are arousing already," he said.

He moved to kneel behind Kirk and pulled him back to lean against him. The bulk of an enlarged penis nudged Kirk's buttocks, and despite himself he found the touch pleasant. One hand still held the knife; the other ran lightly over his chest and stomach, making him gasp involuntarily, and his own penis surged fully upright. The teasing hand moved lower, caressing his thighs but never touching the pulsing, hungry organ. He moaned softly, desperate for release. Of its own volition his hand moved to curl round the rigid shaft.

He was only half aware that Spock had risen and was watching curiously as he milked himself, his face a mixture of agony and ecstasy. Finally the semen spurted from him, splashing onto the shirt that lay, unnoticed, under his knees, and he slumped with a low moan of shame.

"Excellent!" Spock said. He moved round to stand in front of the Human. "Open your mouth."

Kirk looked up. "No!" he choked. "No, not that... "

The Vulcan's hand touched his temple, and the icy finger penetrated his mind. "It is no more than you have expected your women to do for you," Spock said. "Do you tell me none of them have ever objected?"

"It's natural for a woman to satisfy a man... in whatever way he wants," Kirk muttered.

"And here, my servant, it is natural for a slave to satisfy his owner, or his trainer, or any man his owner lends him to. Open your mouth - and do not attempt to bite."

Kirk tried to resist, but a sudden pain deep in his brain made him change his mind even as he felt his mouth opening without his conscious wish. Reluctantly he opened his mouth to receive the engorged organ, choking as it thrust deep into his throat. The Vulcan held his head steady and thrust rhythmically. Hardly able to breathe, Kirk endured the seemingly unending torment until at last his mouth filled with bitter, coppery-tasting liquid that spilled down his throat, making him feel sick, but he swallowed it, for the alternative meant drawing it into his lungs.

"You are good," the suddenly-hated voice said. "Yes, training you will be a pleasure."

He was released and crouched, face buried in his hands, fighting for self-control. When he finally raised his head and looked round Spock was busy at a table at the other side of the room. He was still wearing nothing but the harness.

As if becoming aware of the Human's eyes on him Spock looked round and crossed back to him. "How quickly do you arouse again, I wonder?" Kirk stiffened. "The Andorian could climax several times in quick succession, but needed two full days rest before he could be roused again... although it was possible, of course, for him to be taken during that time. Are Humans like that?" His hand hovered suggestively close to Kirk's temple.

"I need about an hour," Kirk muttered. "I can manage two or three times close together, but after that I need several hours to feel like it again."

"And you can go on like that indefinitely?"

"I don't know," Kirk said desperately. "I've never tried it for more than a few nights at a time when I've been on shore leave. Then I've done without for weeks at a time."

"It will afford me considerable pleasure to discover your capability. Now, we will run over your first lesson again. This time, you know what is expected of you."

He leaned over and claimed Kirk's mouth, one hand holding his head steady. The other hand ran lightly down his arm and up it again, moved to stroke his chest. Fingers toyed with a nipple...

***

As the Vulcan's softening penis slipped from between his lips Kirk muttered, "I hate you."

"That is immaterial. Does it not occur to you that I might also dislike you? But I have my orders, and I see no reason to deny myself the pleasure of enjoying your body - whatever I might think of you personally." He turned away and almost casually resumed his clothes, then strode from the room.

Kirk huddled uncomfortably, unable to move far, unable to reach any of his clothes except the semen-wet shirt under his knees. He picked it up and draped it around his shoulders - to put it on would, he suspected, make him look even more ridiculous than he felt. He had never been excessively modest, but he had never gone in for public nudity either, let alone public... public fucking.

Luckily it was still quite warm, though as time passed he realized it was growing colder. The shirt didn't help much, but it was, he decided, better than nothing as he wrapped his arms around himself, physical discomfort adding to the dual mental discomfort: the shame of what he had been forced to do, and would be forced to do again; and the worry - what had happened to his crew?

The light had almost faded completely when Spock returned. He walked in, closed the door carefully, and seemed to give a deep sigh as he leaned momentarily against it. Then he crossed to the prisoner.

"I trust this time has given you an opportunity for fruitful consideration?" he asked.

"Go to hell!" Kirk muttered.

Spock's lips curled slightly. "I believe I would have been sorry if you had capitulated this easily," he commented. "Fight on, James. It will make my eventual victory that much more complete."

Kirk drew a deep breath. "I realize you can enforce my obedience," he said quietly, "and that I would be foolish to resist. I can only lose, and it would be more humiliating to be defeated than to... surrender. But I obey under protest. I will do what I have to do; I will never do it willingly."

"We shall see." Spock began to remove his clothes. "Now - how well do you remember your first lesson?"

***

Afterwards he moved away with a satisfied nod. "You are a fast learner," he commented. He punched a button on the table. "Zenar, I require food for a slave, in my room, in half an hour."

"Yes, Lord." The answering voice had a slight accent, and it was only then that Kirk realized that since the doctor's mind touch he had been speaking in Vulcan as well as understanding it perfectly. He had to struggle to remember his own language.

Spock returned to Kirk, reached down and unfastened the manacle. "Here," he said. Kirk followed him and was led to a small bathroom.

Rather to the Human's surprise, after showing him how the plumbing worked Spock disappeared back into the main room. Kirk relieved himself gratefully, then while the bath water was running made a quick inspection of the small room, rapidly realizing that there was no escape from it. There was no window, and the only door opened into the room where his... trainer waited.

He shrugged, unsurprised. Whatever Spock was, he had not thought him a fool. He checked the temperature of the water, added some cold, and sank into the bath.

He remained in the bath as long as he dared, then towelled himself dry. It was surprisingly difficult to walk back into the main room. A tray sat on the table, with a bowl on it. Spock gestured him over, signed for him to take the bowl and a spoon that sat beside it.

It was soup - a thick vegetable soup, filling without being satisfying. 'Food for a slave', Spock had said. Perhaps only the... the free... were allowed meat.

It was only later that he discovered that Vulcans were entirely vegetarian - not wholly through choice. Many Vulcan animals were inedible; of those that were not, many were still poisonous unless they were very carefully prepared and thoroughly cooked. No Vulcan animal save the sehlat had ever been domesticated, either. In the distant past hunting parties had gone out in pursuit of the few edible animals that existed; these were now so rare that such hunting parties were a waste of time. Indeed, a handful of the animals only existed in game reserves. Others had retreated into the inhospitable wastelands where survival was only barely possible. One day, perhaps, their numbers would rise until the herds were again large enough to cull, at least, but that day was far in the future.

Meanwhile Kirk ate, then looked at his captor, realizing how little he knew of what was expected of him.

"Are you tired?"

"Yes." It was no less than the truth. Too much had happened too fast.

Spock indicated a bed in one corner. "For tonight, you may sleep. In the morning, we shall see."

Kirk went over to the bed, swaying slightly in spite of his best efforts to remain steady. He climbed into the bed and lay on the far edge of it, realizing that Spock would certainly sleep in it also. A few minutes later Spock did indeed join him.

Kirk lay stiffly for some moments before he realized that Spock meant what he had said. For tonight at least he was safe from any further assault. He closed his eyes.

***

When he awoke it was daylight. He blinked his eyes open and looked up, to discover Spock sitting watching him. Memory returned; he could no more stop himself from flushing than he could have flown. Spock leaned over him.

"Your second lesson," he said quietly.

The Vulcan's lips moved lightly over his chest and stomach, nip-kissing him. He lay stiffly unresponsive at first, but the steady stimulation defeated him. His penis stirred, stiffening. Spock kissed the tip of it lightly - too lightly. His body betrayed him; his hips moved, thrusting, before he forced himself to lie motionless again. He was puzzled as to why Spock remained lying to one side of him. He was to find out later - Sarek would want to see his response.

Spock curled his hand around Kirk's organ, stroking it gently, steadily... and again, too lightly. Kirk gritted his teeth and endured the light touch, longing for a harder pressure but refusing to admit it. After a while the light stroking ceased; Spock moved down the bed and ran his own engorged organ down the length of the Human's. Kirk drew his breath in with a sharp hiss, knowing he could not resist for much longer. At last Spock moved once more; he straddled Kirk's chest, leaned over him, and pressed the head of his organ against the Human's mouth. Knowing he could not refuse, he opened his mouth to accept the invader.

"Manipulate yourself," Spock said quietly as he began to thrust slowly, deeper and deeper into Kirk's throat. Kirk obeyed, reaching down to pump himself vigorously, his eyes squeezed shut. Even as the semen spurted from him he felt the hot bitter flood in his mouth.

Slowly, Spock raised himself. "Excellent," he said. "A little more response would be advantageous, but for now, what better than an unwilling performance? I am sure my father will find it most enthralling. Humans are surprisingly responsive."

Kirk allowed himself to relax, knowing he would have a short respite before Spock began to work on him again. "What happened to my crew?" he asked.

"We captured them all, of course," Spock said casually. "Your ship, too, is in our hands. We will keep some of the men - possibly even one or two of the women, to amuse the guards - and sell the rest. Alien slaves are always in great demand." He looked consideringly at his prisoner. "It seems, however, that you are the prize of them all."

Kirk turned his head away.

***

Several times during that day Spock demanded that Kirk satisfy him, using one or the other of the two techniques he had already employed. There was a subtle variation on the stimulus Spock used to arouse him, but for the most part it seemed to be almost a choreographed routine, and suddenly Kirk realized that in fact that was what it was; that in a day or two Spock's father would demand a performance. Kirk shivered. He was already becoming accustomed to Spock's touch, to the idea of swallowing Spock's semen... but the thought of being forced to perform with a stranger, of having to swallow anyone else's semen, was increasingly distasteful.

Gathering his courage he said tightly, "Is this... what I will be expected to do in public?"

"I had thought you realized that already," Spock replied evenly.

"May I know... ?" He swallowed nervously.

"Yes?"

"Why aren't you making me practice with... with the person I'll be... performing with?"

An eyebrow lifted. "You are."

Kirk stared at him, honestly horrified. "You mean... you mean your father expects you to... to... to expose yourself for his amusement?"

"Of course."

"Of course? Don't you mind?"

"I obey orders, as any wise man should." Spock sounded indifferent. "Besides, it is necessary that the household can bear witness to my sexual capabilities. Many Vulcan males are impotent save once in seven years. A Householder must be known to be virile. And I am not the oldest son."

Kirk stared at him, trying to understand the implications. "You're not the oldest son, but you are the heir?" he ventured at last. Spock nodded. "Because you can fuck someone - anyone - on demand, even another male?"

"Essentially correct."

Curiosity, and an odd sympathy, defeated resentment. "What does your older brother think about it?"

Spock moved his hands in an expressive gesture. "There are two. One does not care. He will settle happily into a position as my dependent, knowing that his son may one day be my heir should my sons prove incapable. The other... does care, especially since my mother was not free-born, but Sarek's favorite slave."

"Oh. He's just your half-brother, then? And you are acknowledged?" Despite himself Kirk was beginning to be interested in the quietly self-possessed man.

"Because I am virile. Sarek would prefer to see his bastard son follow him than a second cousin." Spock seemed to sense Kirk's genuine interest. "I will have to banish my brother, unfortunately, or kill him, once I inherit. He could be the cause of much trouble for me either way. Of course, I have a younger brother also, who is still immature. He may prove to be virile - in which case he will inherit, as he is the son of Sarek's wife."

"And if he does? What will you do?"

"Accept him," Spock answered. He looked down at the Human. "Come - it is time to begin work on a third routine."

"How many routines?" Kirk asked wearily. He might have dreamed, once, that heaven consisted of an endless round of willing bodies, continuous sex; he was beginning to realize that sex morning, noon and night was boring rather than pleasurable.

"Perhaps ten basic ones," Spock replied. "The permutations, of course, are innumerable, and Sarek likes variety."

Kirk shuddered as Spock lay on his back. "This time you must stimulate me," he said. "Endeavor to bear in mind the caresses you use. Begin with a kiss."

The Human obeyed.

Spock lay motionless, waiting. Hesitantly Kirk began to play with his nipples, quickly bringing them erect. He leaned down to touch his lips in turn to the two firm buttons, then let his hands slide lower, running light fingers over the Vulcan's thighs. The flaccid penis stirred slightly. Taking a resolute breath Kirk curled his fingers around the limp organ and began to stroke it. The response was slow. Too slow, Kirk decided. Whatever he did, he knew he had to submit to this; in that case, the sooner it was over the better. He lowered his head and licked the soft organ. It stirred again. He continued to lick for some moments then drew the head into his mouth, sucking. The penis firmed.

"Stop."

Kirk raised his head, looking at the Vulcan.

"Now we must think how to extend the performance," Spock explained. "We need one very extended show; sometimes my father feels his age, and a lengthy display is required to stir his blood."

"It's not just for entertainment, then?" Kirk asked.

"Usually it is. Occasionally, however, it is to help arouse him. He is still expected to bed a woman at least once every fifty days - Stephron must examine the woman next morning to ensure that he has indeed copulated with her. When - if - he fails to do so, he must resign his position."

It was incongruous, lying there in the middle of developing a... a fucking exercise, and discussing why.

"Would you be punished for not trying hard enough if you didn't give an... an extended show when he wanted one?"

"As the heir apparent, no, I would not. You, however, would be," was the chilling reply. "Come - what do you plan to do now?"

Hesitantly, Kirk began to stroke the Vulcan's penis. Soon he had Spock writhing, gasping, his hips thrusting wildly against Kirk's hand. A Human would have come by now...

"This isn't enough to let you finish, is it?" he asked.

"No... we require... penetration. Fortunate... we can continue this... indefinitely... if we must."

Kirk smiled to himself. In some things, then, he would be the master. He continued the stroking for a little longer, ignoring Spock's moans. Finally, his own aching penis hard with need, he curled his free hand around his organ and gripped it fiercely, pumping hard. Semen spurted from him and he slumped, drained. Then Spock moved, sat up, gripped his head and thrust into his mouth. Kirk choked and swallowed; Spock slumped beside him, equally drained.

At last the Vulcan sat up. "That is excellent," he said. "We will try that again tonight. Come here." He headed for the low post and picked up the chain, then hesitated. "Will you give me your warrior's oath that you will remain here, in my rooms, without trying to escape?"

The alternative was the chain. "I won't try to escape. My word on it."

Spock nodded, pulled on his clothes and went out, leaving Kirk unsure whether to despise the Vulcan's docility or admire his patience and obedience.

When Spock returned it was with a servant who carried a tray. On it was another bowl of the vegetable soup. Kirk ate it hungrily.

As he finished he said, "Do I only get one meal a day?"

Spock frowned slightly. "Do you mean that your people eat oftener than that?"

Kirk's jaw dropped. "We usually have three meals a day, morning, midday and evening."

"Fascinating."

"And... " Kirk hesitated. "Liquid. I need to... " He stopped short, suddenly realizing that he didn't know a word for 'drink'. He thought for a moment. "I need - Humans need - to consume liquid regularly."

Spock's eyebrow lifted. "Ah, yes. I recall now, my mother had the same need."

"You mean your mother was Human?"

"She was." The answer was curt, and Spock turned away, leaving Kirk feeling that he had presumed too far. "You will have to adjust to one meal a day; here, nobody has any more," Spock went on after a moment, his voice still distant. "However, water is reasonably plentiful, and I will arrange for you to be supplied from the cooking well. I will also advise my father of this in case he has forgotten. He is not normally concerned with the bodily requirements of his slaves." He went out before Kirk had the opportunity to thank him.

***

It was almost a week before Kirk was called upon to appear before Sarek. Spock had gone out as usual, but returned more quickly than was his habit. Silently he had stripped and donned the leather harness, then he turned to Kirk.

"Come. We will use the first exercise tonight - my father does not need an extended display." His voice was curt, and in that moment Kirk knew that despite his apparent acceptance of his role, the Vulcan bitterly resented it.

There were tables all round the sides of a fairly large room, with seats only on the wall sides. Spock stopped just inside the door, halting Kirk, who stood looking round curiously.

Only one of the seats was empty, one beside Sarek, and Kirk guessed that Spock had eaten there; the remains of a meal still graced the table. A youth sat on the other side of the empty chair, and two young men on Sarek's other side. All three resembled Sarek closely, and Kirk had no difficulty in guessing that these were Spock's half brothers. The youth and one of the two young men were watching sympathetically; the other, who sat at Sarek's other side, apparently the oldest of them, watched avidly, clearly pleased that Spock should be made a public spectacle. Sarek himself seemed almost impassive, yet somehow expectant. The others - all men - wore expressions ranging from lewd to politely interested; and Kirk was not altogether surprised to see that one of the most avid was Stephron, who was seated near Sarek. Few seemed to consider that this display could be humiliating to the participants.

In the middle of the hall was a raised dais; on it a girl was performing an uninhibited and very explicit dance. Kirk frowned slightly, trying to recognize her race, but could not recall ever hearing of any race with such deep green skin. A man stood beside the dais, watching her intently. Like Spock, he wore a leather harness - another freeborn trainer who was being treated as little more than a slave? Kirk wondered.

The girl finished her dance by throwing herself at the man and burying her face in his groin. He grasped her shoulders, whirled her to face Sarek, pulled her over and plunged his organ into her from behind. She writhed back against him, uttering animal howls of ecstasy.

The sight would probably have aroused Kirk at any other time; now he watched sympathetically. Spock glanced sideways at him. "Do not waste your sympathy on that one," he murmured. "She is a green Orion."

"Orion?" Kirk asked softly.

"A green Orion, which is not the same as the Orions I mentioned earlier. Green Orions are so highly sexed that they can think of little else," Spock explained. "The males have a degree of intelligence - enough to let them function if they can be removed from any sexual stimulus; but the females can think of nothing else save when they are pregnant and for perhaps six months thereafter. Green Orion young mature quickly; they are independent of their mothers by six months, and become sexually aware at about two years old. Their life span is approximately twenty years - they are little more than animals."

"But they look so... Human."

"An accident of nature, nothing more. They are in great demand among certain of my race... " A look of distaste passed over his face, so fleeting that Kirk wondered if he had imagined it "... Householders who wish for responsive slaves but wish to be sure they will not breed them. At least my father has never slept with this one - she is kept solely for entertainment."

On the dais the 'girl' gave a great cry of ecstasy. The trainer withdrew slowly, his penis still semi-erect. He bowed to Sarek, then grasped the 'girl's' hand and drew her towards the door. As he drew level with Spock he looked at him, then at Kirk, and his lip curled slightly.

Spock returned the look impassively, then touched Kirk's arm and walked forward. Kirk followed, reluctant, but even more reluctant to shame Spock more by resistance. He was wryly amused at himself - if anyone had told him, a short week ago, that in a few days he would be participating in a homosexual display in front of a crowd of strangers with someone he had never up till then met, he would have laughed outright. A short week ago he had told Spock, 'I hate you!' and meant it; now he was aware of nothing but sympathy for this man whose fate was in some ways even worse than his own.

On the dais Spock bowed to his father, and on an impulse, although he had not been told to do so, Kirk also bowed. As he straightened again he caught sight of a familiar face among the servants - the servants! Sarek allowed even them to watch his son taking part in this perverted rite! - and hoped that McCoy would realize that he had no choice. Then, obedient to Spock's nod, he knelt in front of his trainer, facing Sarek. Spock knelt at one side of him and leaned forward to kiss him.

***

As they left the dais Kirk was only half aware of a babble of voices. He could guess the tenor of their conversation. A being who could satisfy himself using only his own hand!

Two girls were standing just inside the door as they reached it, and Kirk realized that they were the next 'act'. Spock ignored them and led Kirk on, back to their room.

Inside, he looked approvingly at the Human. "You did well, James," he conceded.

Kirk drew a deep breath. "Who was the man with the Orion?"

Spock half smiled. "That," he said quietly, "was my immediate rival; my father's second cousin, who would be heir if any insisted that my bastard blood debars me from the succession. He performs willingly, voluntarily, with his Orion, hoping that since I am always paired with males his performance with a female will be the more marked. But in that he fools himself," he added thoughtfully. "Too many remember that green Orions are but animals."

Kirk was silent for a moment. The he said quietly, "I am beginning to realize... Spock, how many of them are against you?"

The Vulcan shook his head. "I do not know. Sepak has his followers, of course, even though he chooses to pair with a green Orion. He is, after all, pure-blooded. Starn - my brother - also has his followers, because he is the eldest-born, though they are few. Many do not care who rules the Household as long as they continue to have a home and free entertainment each night in return for whatever work they do."

"What active support do you have?"

"Little. Until Starn and S'Pol proved unacceptable, and Sarek though to test my virility, I was practically ignored. And while it is possible that Smoor may still prove virile nobody is going to support me."

"Then you must see what you can do to alter that," Kirk said decisively.

"What can I do?" Spock asked. He sounded almost defeated, and Kirk realized that after the Andorian died he must have hoped that he was done with having to participate in these degrading amusements. The humiliation - and it must be humiliating, in spite of his apparent acceptance of Sarek's right to order it; having to do so again had, at least for the moment, almost broken him.

"My father resents that I should be his heir, even although he declared me free at birth. He will not be sorry if Smoor proves virile and I can be returned to the obscurity of mere useless dependence. Above all, he would prefer to declare Starn his heir in defiance of all custom - Starn was ever his favorite. You do not know the knife-edge I must walk to keep myself noticed, yet barely visible." He sighed. "I do not want to be Householder, James. I too will not be sorry if Smoor proves himself."

"What will you do if that should happen?"

"I do not know. I would like to travel the stars... but I have no training to fit me for that, even if a slave's bastard would be acceptable to our Fleet - too often high rank is given to birth, not ability. All I know is the bare essentials of how to run a Household, grudgingly taught me when I was declared the heir."

Kirk laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, his resentment and dislike of the Vulcan suddenly dissipated. He still hated the way he was treated, but he recognized now that it was not Spock's doing; Spock was as much a prisoner of Sarek's whims as the slaves.

Spock looked at him. "You understand... ?" There was awe in his voice.

"Yes. I understand, for that is my life - was my life... travelling the stars."

***

The new understanding between them helped them both as the weeks passed. Kirk did not grow accustomed to displaying himself sexually, but he did learn to switch his mind off so that he was barely aware of the spectators - at least at the time. Sarek seemed to enjoy best the routines where Kirk masturbated, so Spock was forced to stretch his imagination to devise variants on that - something that was difficult for him as Vulcans never did masturbate - indeed, could not reach climax by manual stimulus. In spite of his sympathy for Spock's position, however, Kirk did not offer any suggestions, taking a perverse pleasure in forcing him to experiment. Not even to himself did he admit that he was finding the experiments increasingly enjoyable, that he was no longer reluctant to practice.

Sarek called for a lengthy display one night, and watched with lecherous attention as Kirk masturbated Spock, licking his lips with undisguised salacity as the Vulcan moaned and tossed his head in unsatisfied need. Abruptly Sarek called Kirk to him. The Human looked up, startled; Spock gasped, "Go!" and reluctantly Kirk crossed to Sarek.

"Attend me!" Sarek growled. Kirk looked back to Spock, and Sarek merely smiled. "I require your services, slave. Anyone else's needs are unimportant." He rose and strode out.

Reluctantly, Kirk followed. His last glimpse of Spock was of a figure curled around himself, frantically endeavoring to control his unsatisfied arousal.

Sarek led Kirk to his own bedroom. There, he unfastened his clothes, lay on the bed and growled, "Arouse me, slave!"

There was nothing Kirk wanted less to do, but he realized that if he failed Spock would surely be the one to suffer for not training him better. Unwillingly he curled his fingers round the older Vulcan's organ, finding it soft, puffy and generally unpleasant to the touch. _Heaven forbid the bastard will want me to suck it,_ Kirk thought.

But no. Sarek, it seemed, did not necessarily want that sort of stimulation. He lay back, grunting in satisfaction as Kirk stroked his penis. Slowly, it hardened. At last Sarek clapped his hands; an inner door opened and a woman, little more than a girl, came in. She also looked reluctant, Kirk thought. She moved over to the bed. Sarek snapped, "Release me, but wait - I may require your services again."

Kirk waited, feeling sick, as Sarek, without delaying to ready the girl, pulled her down onto the bed, rolled on top of her and mounted her brutally, heaving clumsily. Kirk tried not to watch, but he could not help but hear. His own organ, that had stiffened while he worked over Spock's body, was soft again now, killed by his disgust at Sarek's actions, and even the sight and sound of the Vulcan copulating failed to arouse him again - if anything it put him off.

Sarek gave one last heave, grunting in satisfaction, and rolled heavily off the girl. She lay still, clearly waiting for orders; Kirk met her eyes and knew she was certainly as unwilling as he was to serve this being. He tried to express his sympathy by his look, wondering where she had come from. She looked Human, but she was not one of his crew, and he doubted whether many Human ships could have been captured by this barbaric race. At the moment the Empire was probably hotly debating the disappearance of the Enterprise... A Captain might be expendable, but not his ship.

The Vulcan sat up and nodded to Kirk, "You may go, slave. Return to your trainer's quarters. You, girl, return to the zenana."

Kirk bowed as he usually did when they retired, and left hastily. He was far from sure that he could find his way back to Spock's room unaided; however, there was sure to be a servant around he could ask. He turned a corner, and ahead of him saw a Human.

"Bones!"

"Jim! Are you all right?"

Kirk glanced round, then lowered his voice. "I feel slightly sick. Bones, do you know how this culture operates?"

"A Householder, his dependents, and his slaves."

"Do you know why certain people become Householders?"

"I assume they inherit."

"Yes - but first they have to prove their sexual capability - and they have to keep on proving it at regular intervals. Sarek here is just about at the point where he's too old to lay anyone - so he has to use all sorts of perverted practices to arouse himself."

"I... er... I had heard that you were having to... to... " Apparently he did not realize that Kirk had seen him, and did not want to add to his friend's embarrassment.

"Yes," Kirk said curtly. "Well, tonight I had to go to Sarek and rouse him so that he could take a girl. Bones, she was so young."

McCoy made a face. "Typical of this sort of society, Jim. It's top-heavy, you know, like the old Roman Empire. One day - soon - there'll be a slave uprising, and when that day comes the Vulcan hierarchy had better look out."

"It'll never work unless they have decent leadership."

"You're a leader," McCoy muttered.

Kirk looked at him, hope stirring. "Keep me informed, if you can. I live in Spock's rooms - the heir."

"The heir?" McCoy gasped. "But... but Jim, isn't Spock the one who... who... ?" He still couldn't say it.

"Yes," Kirk said, "but don't criticize him before you know all the facts, Bones. He has no more freedom than we do."

McCoy thought about it for a moment. "You could be right. You're quite sure he's not just an exhibitionist?"

"Quite sure. I started off hating him, you know, but I've come to feel quite sorry for him." He glanced round. "If this slave uprising does materialize, I'd like to save him. He doesn't deserve to share the fate of... well, Vulcans like Sarek."

McCoy bit his lip, looking embarrassed. "Jim... maybe I'm speaking out of turn, but we've been friends for a long time... and I've been your doctor for even longer. I know you pretty well. You've always had a tendency to... well, sort of fall in love with any girl you've found a good lay. It never lasted, or course, because it was just physical, but... well... I know it hasn't been your style, but you haven't had a chance to lay a girl in months, and you know you're a horny bastard... Are you sure this isn't just a temporary... well, infatuation, I suppose... with the only person you've been allowed to sleep with?"

Kirk looked thoughtful. "It's possible," he conceded, "but if we were to escape tomorrow, and he came with us, I don't know that I'd want to continue fucking with him. Because that's all it is, Bones. It's fucking - to a set pattern - not making love. There is a difference."

McCoy looked a little happier. "If you can recognize that, Jim, I think it probably is all right and you haven't been - forgive me - seduced into being sympathetic."

"Not by sex, anyway," Kirk replied, "but he has been as kind to me as his position allows, and I really do feel sorry for him."

"Okay, I'll pass the word around - for the moment at least Spock isn't to be hurt if the slaves revolt."

"Thanks." Kirk glanced along the corridor. "Bones, do you know the way to Spock's room? Sarek took me to his room but then he kicked me out after he was finished with me, and I don't know my way around."

"This way." McCoy headed back the way Kirk had been coming.

"Do you have any idea what happened to the others?" Kirk asked as they went.

"Well, several of them are here," McCoy replied, "but I think most of them were sent away."

"Hmm. How did you all come to be captured?"

McCoy flushed. "We were tricked, Jim. Don't ask me how they did it, but we got a message the computers agreed was from you. The voice print matched perfectly; Scotty was suspicious and checked it. We were ordered to beam down en masse - the natives were very friendly, and you were ordering shore leave for all personnel."

"I didn't send any message!" Kirk exclaimed. "I was knocked out almost as soon as I arrived."

"Well, somehow they were able to imitate your voice."

"Wait a minute. Bones, did you know they're telepathic?"

McCoy stopped dead, staring at him. "Yes, I did know," he said slowly. "And very unpleasant it is, too. You think they went into your brain while you were unconscious and maybe forced you to send that message, maybe sort of in your sleep?"

"From what I've seen of this society, it would be just their style."

They went on in silence, both men pondering the implications. A telepathic enemy would not be easy to defeat; all they would need to do would be mind-probe any captives and they would know immediately what was planned.

Finally Kirk said, "I know where I am now. Thanks, Bones - you'd better get back to whatever you were meant to be doing before someone starts thinking you've been a long time."

Kirk watched McCoy disappear back round a corner, then knocked at Spock's door and went in. For a moment he thought the room was empty, then he realized the Vulcan was lying curled up on the bed. Puzzled, he went over.

"Spock?"

A low groan came from the Vulcan.

"Spock, what's wrong?" To his astonishment Kirk realized that he was genuinely concerned.

"Help me... please... " Spock whispered. With an effort he unrolled, and Kirk saw that in spite of the length of time that he had been occupied with Sarek and talking to McCoy, Spock was still fiercely aroused and obviously suffering terribly because of it.

He lowered his head and took the rigid organ in his mouth. Spock gasped; his hips thrust violently three or four times, and he came with a shuddering cry. He collapsed, limp.

Kirk raised his head again and looked at him. "Have you been like that since Sarek called me away?" he asked bluntly.

Mutely, Spock nodded.

"Of course, you couldn't relieve yourself," Kirk realized, "but surely you'd lose your hard-on automatically after a while?"

"No," Spock managed. "Once we are aroused we remain aroused until we reach orgasm."

Kirk was aware of anger. "You mean Sarek called me away knowing that you... "

"It undoubtedly stirred his blood to think of me lying here waiting for your return and hoping it would not be too long delayed."

"How did you actually get back here?" Kirk demanded.

"Two of the servants carried me. I was... incapable of walking."

"Spock, couldn't you have got one of them to finish you?"

Spock shook his head. "Not their work," he replied. "Besides, they were Tellarites. Their physique is wrong."

Kirk thought of the pig-like Tellarites and agreed. Might as well ask an eagle to couple with a fish.

Spock was lying back, his eyes shut, looking unutterably weary. Impulsively Kirk leaned over and slid his arms around him, holding him gently. "God, Spock, I'm sorry."

The Vulcan clung to him, and with a shock Kirk realized how desperately Spock needed this comfort. Had anyone ever been kind to him?

"It wasn't your fault, James," Spock murmured.

On an impulse Kirk said, "My friends call me Jim."

"Jim... It sounds friendly."

"Spock... " Kirk drew a deep breath. "It was partly my fault. I could have been back quicker. First I got lost, then I bumped into one of my crew - the man who was my closest friend - and stopped to talk to him. He brought me back here... but we could have talked as we came."

"You didn't know my condition," Spock said.

"I should have thought. I knew you couldn't jerk off - I should have realized that maybe you wouldn't lose your erection either."

"You can only operate within the parameters of your own experience," Spock told him. "I realized that for you the situation would not have been desperate, for you can relieve yourself. I guessed that you would not know my need." He hesitated. "I tried not to hope that when you did come you would help me immediately. I would not have blamed you if you had delayed, punishing me for violating you."

"You didn't violate me, Spock. You had to obey your orders too. I know after the first time I told you I hated you... that was just an automatic response to a situation I had no control over. Even then I knew you had no option. It can't have been pleasant for you either, having to be that intimate with a complete stranger."

"I had grown used to the Andorian," Spock admitted, "though I never liked him. When he died I was relieved more than anything else. I hoped Sarek would not ask me to repeat the... exercise... with anyone else, that he would agree the Household had been well convinced of my capability... "

"It was Stephron who suggested you train me."

"Yes... of course. Stephron does not like me. It offends his sense of decency that a slave's son should be the heir. He is one of Sepak's most influential supporters."

Kirk tightened his grip. "One day," he murmured, "I will take great delight in wringing Stephron's neck."

Spock half smiled. "No you won't," he said more strongly, "for my first act, once I am Householder, will be to banish Stephron along with Starn."

"Spock, that could be a mistake," Kirk said.

"I must get rid of them."

"I realize that, but if you banish them they could very well get together and plot against you."

"I had not thought of that."

"In the Empire, promotion is often through assassination," Kirk said. "I obtained my position through the proper channels, but one of my men at least had ideas of sticking a knife in my back... and he had his followers. I kept them relatively harmless by ensuring that they could not get together to plot against me."

"Are you suggesting I kill them?" Spock asked, pushing Kirk away.

"No - although it might be the obvious answer to Stephron."

"I feel I do not know you when you speak so easily of killing someone," Spock said.

Kirk grinned wolfishly. "Spock, you don't know me at all, because you've never really talked to me. "Oh, you've told me one or two things about yourself, but I never had the chance to talk about myself. All you know about me is my sexual capability."

"That... is true. But it did seem to me that you possess... compassion." He hesitated, "Then to hear you talk so casually about killing... "

"It shocked you?"

"Yes... Jim, talk to me. Tell me about your Empire. Let me learn about your background, and so learn about you."

"Tomorrow," Kirk said. "Tonight, I think you need to sleep. Lie down... " he slipped an arm around Spock again and pulled him down "... and sleep."

Spock relaxed in the Human's arms. "You wouldn't really want to kill... would you?"

"No," Kirk admitted, "but I've found that if I talk as if I will, I have less trouble than if I admitted it. The biggest weakness is to appear weak."

"That is why I pretend I don't care about... about making an exhibition of myself with someone. If they knew how much I hate it, it would be worse."

"I guessed that a while ago," Kirk said softly.

"Jim... "

"Sleep. I'll stay with you. Sleep... "

Spock gave a low incoherent murmur, snuggled his head against the Human's shoulder, and relaxed.

***

After that they talked a lot about their different cultures. Time passed; there was no sign of the slave uprising that McCoy had mentioned as a possibility. They performed nightly in front of Sarek and his Household, no longer needing to practice as intensely as Spock has insisted on in the early days.

Often now they lay together, just touching, talking softly before they slept, both obtaining comfort from the contact, and from the realization that in the other, each had found a friend.

Sometimes Kirk wondered if Spock would welcome a sexual advance that had nothing to do with practicing for Sarek's entertainment - he was rapidly coming to the realization that he would not be averse to having Spock as a lover - but was afraid to risk it in case he damaged the friendship that was developing. He could not deny there was a tenderness in their practicing that had not been there before, though in the dining hall, by unspoken, mutual consent, both tried to remain as detached as possible.

One night Spock seemed edgy; Kirk asked him why.

"It is coming near the time when Sarek will have to prove himself still virile," Spock said. "I fear he will repeat the... events of last time."

Kirk's lips tightened. "If he does, I promise I'll be back as quickly as possible," he said. "I don't want to suck him, god knows - the thought makes me feel sick - but I'll do it if that'll arouse him quicker. And I won't waste time coming back, either."

"Thank you, Jim." Spock leaned forward and kissed him lightly. Involuntarily Kirk tightened his grip of the Vulcan, but Spock gave no sign that he wanted to proceed any further, and Kirk relaxed again.

***

They were awakened early in the morning by shouting and a sound that Kirk immediately recognized. Phasers!

Spock sat up. "What's happening?" he asked. "I'd better go and see."

Kirk caught him back. "No, you'll be killed. I think the Empire has found us. Where are my clothes?" He had gone naked for so long now that the thought of getting dressed did not entirely appeal, but his uniform would be a passport for him - and with any luck, for Spock as well.

"In that cupboard," Spock said, indicating. Kirk dived for it, scrabbled through it, and triumphantly drew out his shirt and trousers. He pulled them on, thought for a moment, then went in search of Spock's plainest dress. He threw it over.

"That'll be the safest thing for you to wear," he said. "I imagine everyone who looks remotely important will be whipped off into captivity without having time to argue." He headed for the door.

He was halfway there when it was thrown open. A figure in Security red stood in the doorway, phaser levelled, and gaped on seeing the man in Captain's uniform. "Sir?"

"Captain James T. Kirk of the ESS Enterprise," Kirk said briskly. "My ship was tricked here some months ago."

"Yes, sir. We got a message - very short - saying that if we heard nothing further from the Enterprise she had been captured by an enemy, and giving these co-ordinates."

"Well, well. Do you know who sent it?"

"No, sir, but the Security Chief will know."

"Very well." He listened. "It sounds as if our men are in control of the situation."

"Yes, sir. Do you have any idea how many of your crew are here?"

"No. I do know that most were sent elsewhere. Spock, do you know?"

"They'll be pretty well scattered by now. Sarek would sell them at the main market - buyers come to it from all over Vulcan."

"Well, the Empire mounted a full-scale attack on the planet," the guard said. "It's probably in our hands by now."

Kirk nodded, knowing the ruthlessness of the Empire once it finally decided to act. "Take me to the Security Chief. Spock, stay with me."

***

Scotty had sent the message. Kirk nodded, unsurprised. His Chief Engineer was a very suspicious man...

It took several days, but within the week the planet was in Empire hands. The Vulcan space fleet, a very mixed bunch composed mostly of captured vessels, was, as Spock had once said, officered by those of rank rather than ability, and surrendered almost without firing a shot. The crews of those vessels - those who were still alive - were returned to their ships as they were found. Kirk soon found himself with almost a full complement.

Sulu was dead - Kirk was not surprised. The man's abrasive personality had been certain to assure that. Without Sulu, Uhura was no threat, he knew.

He had managed - not without difficulty - to keep Spock with him. He had had to stress, over and over, that Spock was the son of a Human slave, whose father, while acknowledging him, had treated him as if he too was a slave.

Finally he was called in front of the Admiral to make his report. He gave it succinctly, and waited for comment.

"You cannot be blamed, Captain. You were overwhelmed before you knew the natives were hostile. More blame must be assigned to your second-in-command, who should have known better than to trust such a message."

"He did get Commander Scott to check the voice pattern," Kirk said. "It tallied. I have since confirmed that a Vulcan doctor used his ability to mind-link to make me give the order, even though I was still unconscious."

"And Commander Scott remained suspicious. He will be commended. But your second-in-command will be disciplined."

"He's dead," Kirk said.

"Perhaps it's as well. Now - there is one other thing, Captain. I understand that you have taken one of these Vulcans aboard your ship, and have refused to let him be taken into captivity."

"Yes, sir. His mother was a Human slave, and he himself was treated as one. He always wanted to join their space service, but membership of that depended on rank, which he did not have. He has no specific training, but it occurred to me that the training he has had would fit him for duty as Executive Officer."

The Admiral looked sharply at Kirk. "On your ship, I take it?"

"It would have to be, sir, for I assume I would be held personally responsible for him."

"Yes, you would." The Admiral thought for a moment. "Very well. We can consider it an experiment. If he integrates and serves well, other Vulcans be considered for Starfleet - in a few years time, when those who are presently young have matured. I do not think that most of the mature adults would adjust to our rule."

"No, sir. I imagine they won't."

"Very well. Have your tame Vulcan signed on as Executive Officer. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Outside, Kirk relaxed. It had been easier than he had expected. Did the Admiral think that Spock would betray him, and by doing so give them a chance to be rid of him? If so, he had misjudged his man. Kirk was quite sure Spock would prove loyal, if only because he had finally been released from what had been an almost unendurable prison, and was being - would be - offered the one thing he had said he would want, to travel the stars.

He returned to the ship and walked jauntily down the corridor. He paused at the door of the cabin assigned to Spock and buzzed.

"Come in." The words were in Vulcan, reminding him that Spock only spoke his own language. They would have to do something about that soon.

The Human entered, to find Spock watching a tape on the Empire. He looked at Kirk shyly. "I thought I should try to learn something about your Empire, since it seems Vulcan will now be part of it."

Kirk smiled. "Yes, I would say that Vulcan has definitely been annexed. It didn't take the Empire long to decide that your planet has large deposits of certain minerals valuable to our continued comfort." He hesitated. "Spock, I don't know how you'll feel about this, though I hope you'll be quite pleased - I managed to persuade the Admiral to let you come with us as an officer on the Enterprise."

"What?" Joy blazed for a moment, then dampened. "But I have no training."

"Executive Officer is primarily administrative," Kirk told him. "It should be little different from managing a Household, and if you do need any help you have only to ask."

"I do not speak your language," Spock pointed out. "I could not understand the commentary on the tape."

"As it happens, I did remember that. Everyone on the Enterprise speaks Vulcan, thanks to Stephron and others like him; could you use the mind-touch to learn Terran?"

"I could... " He sounded slightly doubtful.

"Then carry on. I don't mind if it'll help you."

Spock reached out. "It will be less unpleasant this time, Jim. We know each other now. It is only unpleasant between strangers, or where there is active resistance." He touched Kirk's temple.

The probing finger was warm, gentle, and Kirk found himself welcoming it. There was a definite sense of loss as it withdrew.

"Thank you." The Vulcan spoke in Terran.

"You're welcome." Kirk was not entirely sure that he meant it. While his memories of the mind-touch were unpleasant, he could ignore Spock's ability; with a memory of a warm pleasant sensation he realized that he almost resented having submitted to it... because unexpectedly he now wanted to experience the meld again. He wanted to hold on to it, to hold Spock's mind in his and never let it go. He could not bear the thought of his Vulcan linking with anyone else.

With an effort he forced down his... Yes, his jealousy. "In a way, you're on trial," he said. "If you make a success of this you will open the gate for Vulcans to join Starfleet - in a year or two, when the younger ones, who will be given Empire training, grow up."

"Then I must be successful," Spock replied soberly. "There is little scope for an ambitious younger son on Vulcan. I would not have it said of me that I ruined the first new opportunity my people have had to expand and develop."

***

He settled in quickly. At first inclined to be suspicious and resentful of the presence of a Vulcan on board, the crew quickly learned that although the alien carried no tales to the Captain, Kirk seemed to know instinctively if anyone was harassing the new Executive Officer. The ensuing punishments did nothing to endear Spock to the crew, but the overt hostility ceased.

Kirk knew that the hatred, learned through difficult months of slavery, was unlikely to be quickly overcome. He enlisted the help of McCoy to spread the word that Spock too had been virtually a slave, but he had little faith in its being effective. For the moment, he realized, he would have to be content with quashing open expressions of that hatred.

He knew too that Spock was unhappy. The Vulcan was aware that he was not really trusted let alone liked, although he said nothing. Kirk himself was the only person who willingly offered Spock companionship, but he knew that he too was less than completely relaxed with the alien. He realized why; when they were thrown into an enforced sexual relationship that neither of them had wanted, it was as strangers, although they had subsequently become friendly. Now they were no longer forced to share a bed, and Kirk realized that he had taken a step backwards while he looked for a new basis for their friendship, and he guessed Spock had done the same.

Kirk found himself wondering what Spock was doing about sex. On the ship, Kirk himself had always resorted to masturbation, preferring not to become quite so personally involved with any of his junior officers. He knew that many Captains were not so ethical, and used their positions to coerce certain of their young yeomen into their beds - but he had also seen the result of one such incident. The girl, forced into her Captain's bed, had reacted with calculated cunning; she had deliberately set out to make the Captain completely dependent on her, to the point where it was she who ran the ship, and had caused so much resentment that eventually someone had effectively removed her using a well-placed knife. The culprit had never been discovered - Security had had a personal interest in not discovering who the killer was. Kirk, at the time, had been a young lieutenant in Communications, who had not come much into contact with the girl, but all reports on her had shown her clearly as a calculating bitch - though he had had some sympathy with her situation. Until the Captain had forced himself onto her she had simply been an ambitious Engineering junior, and Kirk was not sure he blamed her for seeking to gain some benefit from her position. But he had also determined that if he ever made Captain he would not chance a similar situation developing on his ship.

But Spock, he knew, did not - could not - obtain relief through masturbation, and the Vulcan had over the years grown accustomed to regular sexual relief. He must be feeling some sort of lack... and there was nobody on the ship except Kirk himself who would even think that Spock needed sexual contact.

Would Spock welcome the idea of sleeping with him again? Kirk wondered. He had soon discovered that his usual fantasies while masturbating were ineffective; he found himself thinking of Spock, of the Vulcan's knowing hands caressing him, and he knew he would not be averse to resuming sexual relations with Spock. But his own rules stopped him. He would not coerce a junior; in spite of Spock's senior rank, purely administrative though it was, he would not coerce Spock. If the Vulcan made it clear he wanted Kirk, then Kirk would go to him - but not otherwise.

***

The Enterprise swung into orbit round the small third planet of an insignificant star, lured there by interesting long-range scan patterns.

Chekov looked up from the Science Console. "One large land mass, Captain," he reported. "Several islands, mostly fairly large, scattered over the ocean mass. Atmosphere and climate within acceptable range for Humans - no orbital tilt, therefore no seasons - varied life form readings, several quite large, none sapient."

"Mineralogical readings?" Kirk asked.

"There are definite readings of dilithium, rytalin and pergium," Chekov replied.

"Pinpoint a definite location for each; we're beaming down to make a closer survey," Kirk decided. "Mr Spock - I think the experience will do you good. You will accompany us." He deliberately refused to consider his main reason for the order - that Spock, on board the Enterprise without his protection, might very easily suffer some accident before his return. He was under no illusions about the Vulcan's lack of popularity.

"Yes, sir," Spock answered. He gave no sign of his relief - like Kirk, he well knew that without the Captain's protection his safety was not certain.

***

Kirk thought he had rarely seen a more depressing, desolate place.

The ground was cracked and broken. Between jagged rock formations a dry powdery soil lay in grey dunes. Here and there clumps of hardy grass clung to a shrivelled, grey-dust-covered brownness; in the shelter of a boulder a drooping-fronded tree stood, the ghost of a long-dead forest revealed only by the decaying stumps of trees that showed here and there through the grey soil. There was no sign of moisture, though a little must still exist buried deep, deep beneath the surface; and the sun burned down mercilessly.

"Surely the whole planet isn't like this?" Kirk asked unbelievingly. "The scans did indicate some animal life."

"No, sir, there is cooler, fertile ground to the south. But the most promising mineralogical readings came from this region," Chekov replied.

Kirk grunted. "All right. You have fifteen minutes to collect samples and record your findings on this site." He watched the landing party scatter, then turned to Spock. "Not a very inviting place."

"Even by Vulcan standards," Spock agreed, "it is very hot."

Kirk nodded. "I wonder why the best minerals are so often found in the most uninviting places."

"Might others have found the planet first and denuded it of its resources except in these uninviting places?" Spock suggested.

"Maybe, but we'd have picked up signs of anything having been mined," Kirk sighed. "You don't know yet how accurate our sensors are."

Spock hesitated. "They weren't accurate enough to detect the trap the Vulcans set," he ventured.

"True," Kirk replied. He turned his back to the wind as it carried a flurry of grey dust past them, threatening to blow it into their faces, and watched the dust devil as it took the powder speedily up a long dune, dropping it just over the top.

Chekov rejoined them. "All the mineral deposits here are eroded into dust," he said hoarsely. "Oxidized, crumpled into powder. The dilithium is in the form of tiny crystals, too small to be of any use except to power wrist chronometers. We might as well give up here and look elsewhere."

"Right. Mr. Chekov. Gather the men - we'll beam straight back."

"Yes, sir." Chekov sounded positively pleased, and Kirk couldn't blame him.

***

Chekov spent some time that evening checking other parts of the solitary land mass, and came up with an alternative landing site. Next day the same landing party beamed down again. This time they materialized in a lush grassland; blue-green grass covered the ground, and the area was sparsely dotted with trees similar to the one they had seen the day before. Grazing animals were scattered everywhere, mostly quite small; one or two stood about donkey-sized. A couple of vaguely cat-shaped creatures lay in the shade of a thick clump of grass watching the nearest grazers, which were gazelle-like creatures about the size of a rabbit - beautiful, delicate things that seemed oblivious of the presence of the bigger cats.

The landing party scattered once more, moving off in pairs to check out the region. Kirk kept Spock with him. The Vulcan knew very little, and Kirk himself did not know much more, but at least he knew that he could teach Spock what he did know - time enough for further tuition from Chekov once Spock had a grasp of the very basics, and once the other Humans had learned to trust him a little more.

Kirk indicated the readings on the tricorder that indicated mineral deposits. There were sparse readings of dilithium near the two cats; keeping a wary hand near his phaser, Kirk moved in that direction, explaining to Spock, who held the tricorder, just how they would know when they were close to the deposit.

The cats watched them warily, unsure of the alien smell and also well aware that these creatures were taller than any usual prey. Besides, neither cat was hungry; they had killed and eaten well at dawn, and were still feeling full-fed.

"Here?" Spock asked finally when they were about a hundred yards from the cats.

Kirk glanced at the tricorder. "Close enough," he said approvingly.

Both men were so intent on the readings that neither paid any attention to the sudden raised head of one of the cats. The other, alerted by its companion, also raised its head, sniffing the air; together they rose and moved off unhurriedly but steadily.

Nearby a bird rose with a shrill squawk that sent the gazelles bounding off in sudden fright; and then a sudden hoarse roar filled the air. Both men jumped, looking hastily round. A *thing* was rushing towards them. Bigger than anything they had seen here, it was furred in a pattern of black, brown and grey. Its red eyes glared at them, its fangs gleamed white in the sunlight, saliva slavering from its jaws. It was ugly, a creature out of a nightmare, totally unlike any animal that either man had ever seen.

Kirk raised his phaser, but the ray had no effect on the charging monster. Spock threw himself at Kirk, knocking him over, and rolled to lie protectively on top of him. The change of position disconcerted the creature; it misjudged its leap and overshot them, one hind paw catching Spock's shoulder, a claw tearing a short gouge. The creature's charge carried it some distance past them; Spock scrambled to his feet, hauled Kirk upright, and dragged him towards the nearest tree, continually glancing over his shoulder to see if they were being pursued.

The animal skidded to a halt, and swung round. It saw them running, and headed for them once more.

Spock pushed Kirk behind the slim trunk of the tree and stood behind him. As shelter it was pitifully inadequate, but he trusted it would be enough to halt the beast.

"Kirk to Enterprise. Two to beam up - fast!"

The animal seemed to realize that a flat charge would accomplish nothing and began to veer round, trying to come at them from an angle, even as the transporter beam caught them and they shimmered off and into safety.

In the transporter room Kirk drew a deep, relieved breath, then dived for the console. "Uhura, instruct the landing party to beam up. There's a dangerous carnivore down there."

"Aye, sir."

Then he turned to Spock, gesturing the Vulcan to join him beside the console. He checked the claw slash quickly, noting that although short it was quite deep. "I think we'd better let McCoy see this as soon as possible," he said.

The transporter began humming; four of the landing party shimmered into sight. They left the chamber and were almost immediately replaced by the remaining six.

"Did any of you get a good look at that creature that was chasing us?" he asked.

"What creature?" Chekov replied.

Kirk looked round the others. "Did any of you see it?"

Headshakes answered him.

"Hmmm."

"We were scattered, sir," Chekov pointed out.

"Yes, but I did hope someone would have registered it," Kirk muttered.

"I might have something," Spock said shyly. "I pressed the record button on the tricorder just after it roared, before we realized it was hunting us."

"Give the tricorder to Mr. Chekov," Kirk said. "Chekov, run through the recording and see if we did get any tape of the animal."

"Yes, sir."

"What results did everyone else get?" Kirk went on rapidly.

"There are definitely good deposits of dilithium and rytalin in that region," Chekov said positively. "No pergium, but that's probably concentrated elsewhere. The quantities make mining economically feasible."

"Good. Compile a report to that effect for Starfleet. Add any pertinent data about the carnivore we saw - and also that there are cat-like creatures, probably also carnivores, present as well. These do not appear to be an immediate danger."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Mr. Spock, you're coming down to Sickbay. McCoy ought to have a look at that gash."

The men stared a lot harder at the images on the viewscreen once it became obvious that the Vulcan had saved their Captain's life.

***

McCoy looked up as Kirk ushered Spock into Sickbay. The Vulcan was beginning to shake; he looked quite pale, and he was feeling sick. The doctor made him lie down and checked the readings hastily.

"Nasty," he said. "But you got him here in time. What happened?"

As Kirk explained McCoy injected Spock then set to work to staunch the bleeding and close the gash.

"It's as well he bled profusely," McCoy commented. "Heaven only knows what would be on the claws of a carnivore like that. I would expect most of the dirt and germs to be washed out by the bleeding, although there is some infection." He worked silently for a moment, noting Spock's involuntary wince. "Tender, is it?" he asked gruffly.

"A bit," Spock admitted.

McCoy finished closing the wound and carefully put a dressing on it. "Come back in three days," he said. "If it gives you any trouble, of course, come right away, but I think it'll be all right."

"Yes, Doctor," Spock replied obediently.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Kirk promised.

McCoy glanced at Kirk. "It mightn't do any harm to let it be known round the ship he was hurt protecting you," he said bluntly. "A lot of the crew are still very unsure of him, doubtful of his loyalty. It might help if they could learn he is loyal."

Kirk grinned wryly. "Not as far as anyone planning to stick a knife in my ribs is concerned."

"Now, Jim, you know Sulu was the only one with that ambition, and with the ruthlessness to carry it out," McCoy growled.

"Uhura's ambitious," Kirk said.

"Yes, but not ruthless," McCoy replied. "No, I think you'll find that the crew would welcome proof that Spock's loyal."

"I'll think about it," Kirk promised. He looked at the Vulcan, noting how pale he still was. "Spock, wouldn't you be better to stay in Sickbay tonight?"

"I would rather not, Captain," Spock answered.

Kirk glanced at Spock as they went along the corridor. "Do you play chess?" he asked, knowing it was probably a silly question.

"Chess?"

"It's a game... Well, the easiest way to explain it is to show you." They had reached his cabin. "Come on in."

Spock obeyed, a little nervously. Kirk had been generous in sharing his free time with the Vulcan, but for the most part they had remained in the rec room while Kirk explained various aspects of his new life that Spock found puzzling. This - being invited into the Captain's cabin - was a completely new experience.

Kirk, too, felt somewhat nervous. He was far from sure how Spock really felt about him and still had not come to terms with his own feelings for the Vulcan - but after the way Spock had acted on the planet he felt he had to make some more positive gesture in return than a mere 'Thanks'.

The game was completely new to Spock.

"Vulcan has nothing like this," he said as Kirk demonstrated the moves.

"Would you like to try a game?" Kirk asked.

"Yes, indeed. It would appear to be very interesting."

Although he spoke the truth Spock did not add his other reason - it would allow him to be close to this Human. He longed to have the right to hold Kirk, to savour the taste of his mouth again and again, to feel the responsive body writhing against him once more... but any such move must come first from Kirk. He could not presume on the rights their past relationship had given him, for he knew that Kirk had yielded only because he must. He thought the Human had found pleasure in their private unions, but knew it might have been only the physical release of a sensuous man denied any contact with the women he had always favoured previously. He could not assume that Kirk had actually enjoyed his, Spock's, touch.

For himself, Spock knew that in the Human he had found the one partner who could always satisfy him. He had been forced, since reaching maturity, to display his sexual prowess with several partners - always males - and until Kirk had always found that the practice gave nothing but physical release. With Kirk he had actively enjoyed it; had used the excuse of practice to lie with him more - much more - than was actually necessary.

It had not been easy to restrain himself from possessing the Human fully, either... but he had been helped by the fiction of practice. Kirk would certainly have wondered why, when Spock took him fully in the privacy of their room, he never did so in front of Sarek.

Resolutely Spock forced down his growing need for the Human, and turned his full attention to the game.

***

After that they played regularly. At first Kirk handicapped himself to give the Vulcan an even chance, but soon he found it necessary to play on equal terms. Spock took to the game very easily; before long they were evenly matched, and when they played in the rec room bets were laid on the outcome - as Kirk eventually discovered.

Spock found himself less distrusted, too. More and more of the crew seemed inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, helped by the testimony of those personnel who had remained at Sarek's, that Spock had indeed been treated by his father with a complete lack of consideration. As he became more confident in his new duties he discovered that he was, if not actually happy, at least content.

Weeks passed. On landing party duty Spock discovered in himself a talent for scientific exploration, and soon Chekov was assigning him definite duties. Kirk acquiesced cheerfully, for he saw in it an indication that Spock was being accepted as a member of the crew, a member of the Empire, instead of being regarded suspiciously as a possibly untrustworthy alien.

And since Chekov also appeared to have Spock's best interests in mind, Kirk stopped automatically going along on landing party details where Chekov was included.

***

Alpha Crucis 3 was a small, volcanic-shaken, tectonically unstable planet that at first sight offered nothing to the Empire. Chekov's scientific opinion was that it would soon explode under the stress of its extreme volcanism. The Enterprise moved in nearer to take closer sensor readings.

As soon as Chekov began to make his report Kirk cursed softly. The closer readings showed deposits of zirconium, a substance normally obtained by reducing zircon in an electric furnace. The zirconium had to owe its existence to the volcanic activity on the planet... and the Empire was sure to want to mine the stuff; corrosion-resistant, it was widely used in areas where most metals corroded fairly rapidly. And that meant a landing party to determine the factual detail of the planet.

He knew from the look on Chekov's face that his Science Officer also regretted the discovery. It would not be a pleasant planet to be on.

"Pick your landing party, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, resigned. "I'll come with you."

Chekov knew why. The Captain never ordered his men into a dangerous assignment without showing that he was prepared to go too.

"Meet in the transporter room in fifteen minutes," Kirk went on. "The sooner we get it over with the better."

***

The heat and the sulphurous smell hit them with almost physical force. Chekov quickly checked his tricorder. "We can survive in these conditions for several hours," he said, sounding slightly doubtful, "but I would recommend that any miners here wear life support at all times. Automatic mining would be best, however, due to the unstable conditions."

Spock was taking his own readings. "I doubt that machinery would last long in these conditions, Mr. Chekov," he offered.

Chekov simply grunted, but Kirk got the impression that in fact he agreed. The landing party scattered.

If anything this world was even more unpleasant than the desert region of the first one Spock had landed on. Apart from the heat and the stink, a heavy pall of smoke lay across the sky; everything was covered with a thick layer of fine dust which was pockmarked here and there where larger debris had landed. The dust was gullied by what looked like dry water-courses.

Spock glanced at Kirk. "I think there is liquid over there," he said.

"Liquid? What kind?"

"It reads like an acid," Spock said uncertainly.

"Let's go and have a look."

It was a river, carving a winding course for itself through the volcanic rock. Spock rechecked the tricorder.

"It is definitely acidic, Jim," he said.

"It figures," Kirk said slowly. "With all the muck being thrown into the atmosphere by the volcanoes, any rain that falls must absorb a lot of corrosive gas. Mining here will be very difficult."

"I do not think I would recommend it," Spock said tentatively.

"To be honest, neither would I, but I know the Empire will be interested in deposits of zirconium. I must report this."

A gust of hot wind blew a flurry of dust into their faces, blinding them. They were still blinking their eyes clear when with a sudden angry rumble the ground under their feet shook violently.

Kirk lost his balance instantly, and dropped to his knees; Spock, caught off-balance as the ground beneath his right foot dropped sharply for a couple of inches, was thrown sideways and crashed against a rock. Winded, he could only wrap his arms around his head in an instinctive attempt to protect himself as he heard the muffled thud of falling rocks.

As the tremor stilled Kirk scrambled to his feet, looking round for his companion. Spock lay still beside a rock. Kirk ran to him, dropping to his knees, hands reaching urgently. "Spock! Spock!"

The Vulcan managed to draw a gasping breath and lay in the curve of Kirk's arm, wondering how long he could pretend to be unrecovered. "I am unhurt," he said unsteadily,

Kirk could not guess how much of the unsteadiness was due to Spock's pounding heart as he felt the Human's arm holding him, and held Spock a little closer, oddly glad of the excuse.

Spock raised one hand to touch Kirk's arm, looking up into the concerned hazel eyes. Kirk smiled down at him. "I don't think anything's broken or you'd know about it, but you must have been pretty shaken."

"I couldn't breathe for a moment," Spock admitted.

Kirk nodded knowingly "Winded," he said.

"I do not quite understand," Spock said. Anything to prolong this moment...

"Ah. Nothing like that ever happen to you before?" Spock shook his head. "Well, a sharp blow to the diaphragm region can knock the breath out of you, and the shock of the blow upsets the breathing mechanism so that you find it difficult to draw a breath," Kirk explained.

"I see. Yes, that explains exactly how I felt." He really ought to push himself free of Kirk's hold... but it was so pleasant, lying here... He allowed his eyes to close, letting himself imagine for a moment that he was lying in his lover's arms. The dream was so real to him then that he found himself burrowing closer into Kirk's shoulder, and the shock of his uncontrolled action made him sit up abruptly.

Kirk allowed him to pull free and watched him rise, picking up the tricorder as he did so. He watched thoughtfully as Spock began to study the instrument once more, turning his entire attention to it with almost suspicious haste.

 _Yes,_ he thought, _once we get back to the ship I must have a little word with you... in private._

***

None of the others in the landing party had been injured by the earthquake - indeed, two of them had not even known there was a quake, so local had it been. At least, they had realized that there was an earthquake somewhere, but the effects had been so slight where they were that they had assumed the epicentre to be many miles away.

The results of the survey were both promising and discouraging. The deposits of zirconium were indeed extensive and would be easily mined; however, conditions on the planet were not easy, and whether it was mined or not by sentient beings, the Empire would find it impossible to carry out the undertaking without considerable difficulties having to be overcome. Well, that was not their worry.

Kirk left Chekov and his science team compiling the report and turned to Spock. "Come on, Mister - I want McCoy to check you out. That was a nasty fall you took."

"I am perfectly recovered," Spock protested.

"Please, Spock - I'll be happier knowing that McCoy's checked you over."

Spock looked sharply at the Captain. He would be happier knowing... Perhaps, after all, there was some hope that Kirk really did like him, didn't just consider him useful, and grateful enough to be completely loyal. Memory of the arm curled around him surfaced. He tried to consider it dispassionately, but found it surprisingly difficult. The tight grip of that arm definitely seemed to say 'I care...'

"Very well, Captain, but I do consider it unnecessary."

McCoy agreed once he had run a quick check. "Healthy as a small pony, Jim," he said. "A few bruises where he hit the rock, of course, but they're nothing to worry about. You'll probably be stiff tomorrow, Spock," he added. "The natural result of Nature throwing you about. It'll wear off within twenty-four hours."

Kirk and Spock left Sickbay together. Now that he had a chance to speak to Spock alone Kirk found himself unnaturally nervous. It was primarily to put it off that he suggested a meal.

Spock agreed, and they ate, Spock sparingly as always, Kirk with a lack of appetite that made Spock look searchingly at him. He said nothing, however, and Kirk was grateful for his forbearance. _How could I_ Kirk thought, _plead lack of appetite when it was I who suggested going for a meal in the first place?_

The meal finished, Kirk said quickly before he had time to change his mind, "Coming for a game of chess, Spock?"

Chess... when what he really wanted... Well, he mustn't be greedy; he already had more than he could have hoped for as a near-slave in Sarek's Household, more than he could have hoped for as Householder in Sarek's place. Spock nodded acquiescence.

In Kirk's cabin the chess set stood ready, and Spock made his way to his accustomed seat. Before he could sit, however, Kirk said abruptly, "Spock... "

"Yes, Jim?"

"Spock, there's something I must tell you. If... if it bothers you I'll never mention it again and I hope you won't let it upset our... Well, we've become quite good friends since you joined the ship. I wouldn't want to lose that just because... just because I'd like more."

Spock's heart leaped.

"Spock, recently I've found that any time I masturbate I... Humans usually think up some fantasy, or remember some particularly exciting sexual encounter... and I've found myself thinking of you, of some of the nights we had together. That has to mean I'd like to sleep with you again. And today... when I thought you were hurt... I was really worried. Spock, I think I've fallen in love with you."

Spock gazed at him, almost too stunned to respond.

"I'm sorry, Spock. I know it wasn't your choice any more than it was mine, back there on Vulcan. I can control it, live with it... but I did want you to know."

"Jim... " His voice was shaking. "Jim... " Spock held out his hands. "I, too... Come to me."

Hesitantly Kirk reached out, took the outstretched hands. Hands clasped, they stared into each other's faces for a long moment; then as one they released the tight grasp and flung their arms around each other. Clinging tightly, each sought the other's mouth. The kiss deepened, tongues probing urgently, until they broke apart to breathe.

"Come to bed," Kirk gasped hoarsely.

Still clinging tightly they stumbled to the bed. Kirk reached for the fastening of Kirk's tunic; the Vulcan reciprocated, and they undressed each other with almost frantic haste. Kirk pulled Spock down, then, and wrapped his legs around Spock's, searching for the Vulcan's mouth once more.

Spock lay allowing Kirk to take the lead, savoring the joy of feeling the body that had accepted his caresses so passively in the past now hungrily seeking his. Kirk explored Spock's eyes, licked up the slanting eyebrows, and moved on to nibble at an elegant pointed ear. Spock moaned softly; the sound made Kirk redouble his efforts. He licked down Spock's neck to nuzzle gently into the hollow of his throat, unsteadying Spock's breathing. He moved on downwards, to nibble tantalizingly at a nipple, nipping it lightly. Spock's body writhed, and Kirk transferred his attention to the other nipple.

Spock clung tightly, wanting more. He got it. The warm slightly rough tongue licked over his stomach, moving on downwards to his groin, licking all round the engorged organ.

"Please... " Spock gasped. "Please... "

Kirk raised his head, half smiling. "You can't come until I let you," he said. "I want to make this good for you. Just lie back and enjoy it."

"Please, Jim... I don't think I can bear it."

Kirk kissed the pulsing head of the straining organ lovingly, licking over it. He drew it into his mouth, sucking lightly; Spock began to thrust into his mouth, holding his head close.

"Yes... Oh Jim, yes... "

Experience told Kirk when Spock was very close to climax. With a sudden jerk he pulled his head away.

"Jim... please!"

Kirk pulled himself up to straddle the Vulcan's body. He positioned himself carefully, desperate himself for release, and sank down slowly, impaling himself on Spock's penis. For a moment he thought he was going to fail, then something seemed to give and the rigid organ slid easily into him. Pain/pleasure filled him as he sank down, taking Spock deeper and deeper into himself. At last his buttocks pressed firmly against Spock's thighs; he could push himself no further onto the invading rod of flesh. He remained absolutely still for a moment, his eyes meeting Spock's; then he began to ride the Vulcan, slowly, rhythmically. After a moment Spock found the rhythm and moved with him, reaching for the Human's organ, pumping it in time with their steady movements. As their excitement grew their movements became faster and faster, until finally Spock exploded inside Kirk, the hot semen flooding the Human, his hand still gripping Kirk's organ spasmodically. The combined sensations triggered Kirk's climax and he too came, spurting uncontrollably. They held their position for a moment, frozen by the ecstasy, then Kirk slumped down over Spock's body, their arms limp around each other.

At last Spock whispered, "Jim, that was... indescribable."

"It was good for you?" Kirk sounded half drunk.

"Good? Jim, it was perfection."

"Mmmm." Kirk nuzzled into Spock's neck again.

"And you, Jim? Was it good for you?"

"It was wonderful," he murmured, still too drained to speak clearly.

They lay quiet for a while longer.

"I've been wanting you for so long," Spock said at last, softly. "But I was afraid to let you know. I thought you would be pleased to stop having to partner another male... "

"Same here," Kirk answered equally softly, more clearly. "I thought you were so sure that I'd never have gone to another male voluntarily that you'd be shocked to discover that I wanted you... And I thought that you'd be glad to be able to choose who you wanted - that you probably wouldn't want me because it would remind you too much of... of the past."

"I wouldn't have wanted to continue with any of the other slaves I was forced to couple with," Spock admitted. "You know about the Andorian... but there had been others before him. They were just bodies to me. But you were a person. You told me you hated me - I did realize it was your way of hitting back - the only way available to you... but it did hurt."

Kirk kissed the Vulcan's neck gently. "I'm sorry. I can only say that I didn't understand your position - not until later. But now... Oh Spock! I do love you."

They lay silent for a moment.

"Spock... "

"Yes, Jim?"

"When you melded with me... to learn Terran... "

"Yes?"

"It was... I enjoyed it. I was prepared to suffer the unpleasantness I expected to help you, and I enjoyed it. Spock... meld with me again."

The Vulcan's hand moved to Kirk's face before he could control himself, but then he paused, summoning up every iota of his strength. "You do not know what you are offering," he said hoarsely.

"Tell me, then." Kirk pushed his head against the warm fingers.

"To meld... when we have shared such joy... when our bodies are relaxed and comfortable together... Jim, our minds would be pulled into the same embrace... and would be unwilling to relinquish the contact. We could be trapped in a permanent meld."

"What would happen if we were?" Kirk asked.

"We would be able to function independently," Spock assured him, "but we would be wholly dependent on each other for emotional - and sexual - satisfaction. I know that I... desire... to have such a union with you... that you are the partner I would prefer above all others... but all of my sexual experience has been with other males; while until you were captured all of your experience was with women. I... realize that although you have given yourself to me willingly, your preference - in the long run - must be for a woman." In spite of himself his voice trembled.

Kirk considered the situation for a long minute. "I'm not sure," he said. "Yes, all my experience was with women - but none of them could ever hold me. I could never talk to them, and after a while they all began to bore me. Whereas I'm quite sure I could never become bored with you. Since we came back to the Enterprise we haven't shared a bed - until now - and we enjoyed being together. That tells me there is more to our relationship than just sex."

"Yes, that is true," Spock conceded, "but you wouldn't have chosen to have a sexual relationship with me if it had not been forced on you. You wouldn't even have considered it."

"No, probably not. Humans are - well - conditioned to think of sex as heterosexual, even though there has been no legal bar to homosexuality for years - centuries even. I had always considered myself normally sexed, though sometimes it did worry me that I couldn't develop any really deep feeling for any of the women I knew. But homosexuality was forced onto me, and I found I enjoyed it, though I wouldn't admit it even to myself until now. I told you - I've been fantasizing being with you when I masturbated. That has to mean you're really important to me." Kirk knew he was repeating himself, but perhaps that would help Spock see that he did mean it. "I do want you, Spock. I can't imagine stopping wanting you, and that never happened to me before." He caught Spock's hand, pressing it close to his head. "Meld with me. Please. I don't care if it's permanent. I want it to be permanent. I love you. I want you."

Spock could no longer resist his own wishes. His mind slid easily into the Human's, its tendrils spreading wide, fastening avidly onto Kirk's, meshing inextricably with Kirk's feelings; his joy, his contentment... his love. And Kirk, the non-telepath, clung fiercely in return, instinct teaching him how to hold those loving, probing tendrils of thought tightly, pulling them deeper and deeper into his being.

Spock pulled Kirk on top of him, his hands caressing the Human's smooth buttocks, while his hips moved hungrily, rhythmically against Kirk's. Kirk moaned softly, pressing close, his mouth seeking the Vulcan's.

After some moments Kirk remembered that although this would bring him to climax - and soon - it was not enough to satisfy Spock.

 _Take me,_ he thought. _I want to feel you inside me. Take me._

Spock kissed him fiercely _. **First I want you to take me,**_ he replied. **_Please, Jim. I want... I need... to give myself to you._**

Kirk wanted it too, too much to resist. He raised himself slightly, positioned himself carefully, and thrust gently against his Vulcan's anus. Gently... then more forcefully. The head slid in. He paused, then thrust forward again.

**_Ahhh. Jim. That's good..._ **

_Did you ever do this with anyone else?_ Kirk lay completely still.

**_Jealous?_ **

_Yes._

**_I was the trainer, Jim. I took - I was never taken. You are the first... that's why I needed to give myself to you now. Go on, Jim. I want it. Oh, how I want it._ **

Kirk began to move again, more slowly, making Spock pant.

**_Jim. Jim. Yes. More. More. More. JIM!_ **

Kirk convulsed in climax, his groin pressing hard against Spock as his semen pumped deep into the accepting body. After a moment he relaxed and eased his penis out of the tight channel.

_Take me now, Spock. I want you now._

**_I need you._ **

Spock slid easily into Kirk's body and resumed the steady movement that caused only the slightest thrusting. Kirk moaned.

_Faster!_

**_No. I want to make it last... to make it good for you. To drive you mad with pleasure._ **

The tantalizing friction went on and on. Kirk sobbed with near frustration, loving every tormenting moment of delay, knowing that Spock knew how he was enjoying the sensuous torture, wanting it to end, wanting it to continue, the physical pleasure intensified by the mental link as their sensations were reflected back to each other.

Their excitement mounted... peaked... overflowed in a wild eruption of feeling that left them both limp. They lay motionless, completely relaxed, only semi-conscious. Before either of them could formulate coherent thought again, both were asleep.

***

Kirk woke to find Spock looking down at him possessively. He smiled up at his lover, eyes warm with love as he remembered their wild love-making.

 _Spock_. There was utter satisfaction in his thought.

 ** _Jim._ ** The Vulcan's thoughts were as intense.

_We ARE permanently linked?_

_**Yes.** _

_I'm glad. After last night... I couldn't even begin to want anyone else._

**_I too am glad. And you will find that as we learn of each other, we will experience more and greater pleasure together._ **

_Is that possible?_

**_Oh yes._** Spock kissed him, but lightly. **_We are on duty in half an hour, Jim. We should get up._**

"Pity." Kirk sat up. He looked at Spock, his eyes gleaming. _Just you wait, my Vulcan. I have a few ideas for tonight._

 ** _I look forward to discovering what you have in mind._** "You are procrastinating, Jim."

"I know."

They were in time for their watch... barely. Neither had eaten.

***

About halfway through the watch Kirk, sitting with only half his mind on the busy non-activity around him, stiffened to a sudden awareness of danger. He looked round sharply. All was as it should be. Yet...

"Mr. Chekov - is everything all right?"

"All readings show normal, sir."

Odd. There was definitely something threatening, just on the periphery of his awareness. He concentrated.

Men... five or six... No, seven. Their faces were hidden; they were advancing on him along a corridor, from both sides, trapping him...

 _Spock!_ Memory of the mind-link surfaced. It was his mate who was in danger. _Spock! Where are you?_

 ** _Deck Seven,_** came the urgent reply. **_Near Turboshaft Eight. I could defeat them all, but only by injuring some of them, and I think that is inadvisable._**

 _On my way._ He thumped the intercom button. "Security to Deck Seven, Turboshaft Eight immediately. Mr. Chekov, you have the con." The last word was cut off by the closing elevator door.

***

Spock, trapped between two advancing, threatening groups of men, set his back against one wall. If he could avoid injury until Kirk came... but they were armed with sticks - no, metal bars. It was not likely they intended him to die, but they certainly meant to inflict serious damage.

He waited until the first of them was close, then moved like lightning. He grabbed the man's weapon and twisted it from his grasp. Armed, he now stood more chance.

He concentrated on deflecting the blows they aimed at him, refusing to attack, simply defending himself.

"What is this?"

For a split second even Spock failed to recognize Kirk's voice. His assailants turned to flee, but were brought up short by the group of Security men behind them.

Kirk moved forward, coldly menacing. "Remove those masks."

Hesitantly the seven men obeyed. Kirk looked them over, noting who they were; all but one Engineering ensigns, the exception being a Security lieutenant. The Security team looked embarrassed as they recognised him.

"You have an explanation for this... brawling?" Kirk asked the lieutenant.

"We wanted to show this... alien... that not all of us can be fooled by his lies, his attempts to play on our sympathy - sir," Lt. Dravik replied, his voice shaking with hatred. "Those... Vulcans... would never enslave their own."

"You were not a slave in Sarek's Household, I think," Kirk said reflectively.

"I didn't need to be, sir. We all found the same treatment." He indicated his fellows.

"Yes, indeed," Kirk said deceptively mild. "But I _was_ a slave in Sarek's Household, and I saw the treatment Mr. Spock received. I say he was treated as a slave... worse than a slave, for he was nominally free and should not have had to expect humiliation. He was treated with more brutality that I was, Mr. Dravik. I saw it. Do you call me a liar?"

"No, sir." It was almost inaudible. None of them could meet his eyes.

"Mr. Spock, what will I do with them?" Kirk asked. "The assault was upon you, a senior officer. That is a court martial offence."

Spock looked over the group consideringly. **_What would you advise? I am ignorant of Human reactions._**

_I'd like to throw the book at them. But that would make them resent you even more. Yet they would take anything less as weakness._

**_A warning, perhaps? What you WILL do if they repeat the offence?_ **

_Yes, a mild punishment and a severe warning._

"We know who they are, Captain. They can be held responsible should I be attacked again - by anyone. That should motivate them to discourage any such attack. Meanwhile, a small reminder that they have transgressed?"

"Excellent, Mr. Spock." Kirk looked over the men. "Confined to quarters for a week, and you will remain on the ship our next shore leave. And you can thank Mr. Spock for his leniency."

He almost laughed at the expression of Dravik's face. Turning them into bodyguards - however unwilling - was a stroke of genius.

"Yes, sir," Dravik muttered.

"Dismissed."

They vanished along the corridor and Kirk nodded dismissal to the Security team. Once they were alone he looked at his mate with a sigh. "Thank god for the mind-link," he said.

"You always did have an awareness of when I was disturbed, even without the link," Spock reminded him. "It might have warned you this time too."

"Not in time to save you from injury," Kirk said soberly.

Spock smiled. "Perhaps not... You will permit me to express my gratitude for your aid - tonight?"

"Tonight will do fine - as long as you give me something on account now," Kirk said, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

Spock glanced along the corridor, ensuring that they were alone, then drew the Human close. Their mouths clung avidly; Spock's tongue slipped easily between Kirk's lips and explored the familiar contours with a hunger that he felt would never be satisfied. Kirk responded, caressing the invading tongue with his own, feeling the welcome heat in his groin.

At last they were compelled to break apart, gasping for breath.

"Tonight," Spock promised.

"Early tonight," Kirk agreed.

***

After going off duty they went together for a light meal then headed for Kirk's cabin. The Captain thumbed the 'Do not disturb' button, then turned to his mate.

They undressed each other, then Spock lifted Kirk easily and laid him on the bed.

His hands explored his Human's body, investigating it thoroughly. Kirk writhed, moaning softly, abandoning himself to his Vulcan's loving attention. He could feel himself quivering on the edge of climax, then suddenly the intense sensations lessened; desire, while still strong, had somehow been reduced.

He blinked at Spock, who smiled into his eyes. "You are at my mercy," he whispered. "Mine... to satisfy or deny as I will. I told you once that you would beg for my touch... Tonight, I intend to hear you beg."

"Yes... " Kirk gasped. "Make me beg... Spock... "

As the Vulcan's lips pressed his Kirk knew that he would resist as long as he could - and he knew also that he would be defeated. The prospect of surrendering to Spock excited him. He was already moaning again as the hungry tongue possessed his mouth.

Deliberately he forced himself to resist, to lie passively accepting, but it was impossible to deny himself the joy of responding. He was brought to the brink again... and again...

"Please," he gasped. "Please, Spock. Take me. Take me now. Please. I... beg you."

Spock drew back and looked at him.

"Please, Spock. Please... AHHHH!"

The Vulcan plunged deep into him with one hard, relentless thrust. Pain shot through him for a moment, almost instantly replaced by pleasure. He thrust fiercely against Spock, grinding his own penis between their bellies, and cried out again as he came in an overwhelming climax.

They lay relaxing, locked in each other's arms.

"I love you," Spock whispered.

"Spock... I too... Oh, I love you."

They kissed gently. Kirk snuggled his head onto Spock's chest and his eyes closed.

Spock lay awake for some minutes. **_I will never let you go_** , he thought possessively ** _. Just for now you are willing, but that may change. You may wish to return to having women. I will not let you leave me, Jim. I will never let you go._**

But even as he thought it he knew that he would never need to. For he felt Kirk's mind stir in his, holding him fast, and he knew that Kirk would never let him go, either.

 


End file.
